


The Waiting Game

by MysteryFicAnon



Series: Mafia Boys and Soft Bois [2]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mafiafell (Undertale), Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mentioned violence, Sans/Underfell Sans (Undertale), Slow Burn, Underfell Papyrus (Undertale), Underfell Sans (Undertale), mafia, somewhat happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:00:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28434294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MysteryFicAnon/pseuds/MysteryFicAnon
Summary: Due to unforeseen circumstances, Sans has to stay with Red and Boss for longer than he'd expected. Can he trust the mafia men, or are they just messing with him?NOTE: This is set after "bet on it", please read that fic first to understand what's going on here.Also: there is no depictions of graphic things in this story, but some pretty fucked-up stuff is alluded too, so be warned.
Relationships: Sans/Sans (Undertale)
Series: Mafia Boys and Soft Bois [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2082675
Comments: 15
Kudos: 57





	The Waiting Game

**Author's Note:**

  * For [silverryu25](https://archiveofourown.org/users/silverryu25/gifts).



> Merry (late) Christmas silver!!! I hope you like this story. I thought it would be interesting to do something from Sans' perspective. You're such a good friend, and you deserve a great holiday gift.
> 
> Thank you to @clehnian for helping me beta read this, I appreciate it!

It still took Sans a moment to understand where he was when he woke up. It had been a couple of weeks since he’d been “found” by Red, but he still wasn’t used to this place. The guest room he was staying in was nice, but clinical, with none of the usual garbage he kept cluttered in his own bedroom.

At first, he’d figured it would only be a few days before he would get to head back. Unfortunately, whatever the humans had used to knock him out had lingering effects. He’d been having issues with sluggishness, and his HP fluctuated between 1 and 0.88. Red had brought in a doctor to treat him, and even with one eye, Sans felt like she was staring right through him as she checked him over. Apparently she was used to making HP boosters for Red, but since he only had one HP to work with, she wanted to take her time to make sure his magic would absorb it properly.

Sans was almost ready to go home right then, before Boss had reminded him that meant they would have to contact him again when the serum was ready. Of course, Sans didn’t want any of this to connect back to his brother, so he’d agreed to stay with them until he was fully restored. He’d probably been fired from all three of his jobs by now, but that didn’t matter.

This was a shitty situation, but Sans guessed it wasn’t all that bad. He didn’t think he’d spent more than an hour alone in the house. Red usually took up babysitting duty, but if Sans didn’t want company he would just sit in the next room over. Underneath his well, everything, he could be a pretty considerate guy.

Case in point: the other day he’d stalked Sans enough to figure out where his brother worked so he could pass on a message about Sans’ situation. Apparently Red had visited the coffee shop early on in the day, and dropped off a piece of paper at the right moment. He’d gotten a letter back from Papyrus at the end of his shift, and given it to Sans as soon as he could. Sans had smiled, thanked him, then locked himself in his own room so he could cry over it.

He rolled over, smiling softly as he saw the folded stationery next to his bed. Even while he was at work, Papyrus was always prepared. He’d even put a couple of glitter stickers on the page, giving it that personal ‘awesome brother’ flair.

Unfortunately, Sans’ lounging was soon disturbed. He couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was staring at him, so he reluctantly sat up. He groaned, scratching his skull a bit as he looked over at the door.

The cat was sitting in the edge of the doorway, staring at him. Her good ear was tilted back, and it almost seemed like she was glaring at him. Sans sighed, and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. Hopefully, he'd be a bit less tired once he got some food in him.

He spared himself a glance in the mirror hanging by the closet door, and shrugged. As usual, he looked like he was drowning in Red’s leisure clothes, which mostly consisted of wife beaters and basketball shorts. At least the shorts came with a threaded waistband—he’d hate to accidentally be pelvis-out in the middle of doing something.

Doomfanger let out one of her weird growly meows, then turned around. Her tail swished behind her, the fur on it looking pristine despite the bend in it. She walked off, expecting him to follow behind her. Sans did, of course, but he walked at his own speed. He didn’t care how much Boss loved her; he wasn’t going to let himself be ordered around by a cat.

Judging by the sunlight slanting in through the large living room windows, it was almost noon. Sans stepped into the living room, feeling the softness of the plush carpet even through his slippers. Living the crime life does pay after all.

Sans headed into the kitchen, stretching a bit. It was a bit smaller compared to the other rooms of the house, but it comfortably fit all the necessities and a four-person table. Sans watched as Doomfanger trotted over to her water bowl, then turned his attention to the skeleton in the room. Lounging by his empty, grease-stained plate with a newspaper over his face, Red was the perfect picture of an old-timey mobster. One of his elbows rested on the table, showing off the scar that ran over his ulna and radius. It was a pretty deep dent, but the ridging on it meant it must be old.

“Mornin’.” Red put his newspaper down as Sans came into the room. He headed over to the stove, picking up a plate covered in foil that was sitting on the counter next to it. “Here’s yer breakfast.”

Sans sat down at the table, picking at the foil covering the plate. The food underneath was still nice and warm, the perfect temperature to be eaten. He blinked as Red suddenly came close, setting down a glass of orange juice on the table next to him.

“Don’t worry ‘bout the quality, Boss cooked it. He jus’ had to go out and get some chores done.” Red waited for a moment, but when Sans didn’t say anything, he meandered back over to his seat.

Sans began eating, keeping his head down. He was usually a pretty chill guy, but he couldn't help feeling awkward. Did Red expect him to talk, or did he prefer the silence? Boss had scolded him for talking with his mouth full, so Sans decided to not bother Red and let him read the paper. The food was good, packed with so much healing intent that it tingled on Sans’ tongue.

Then, the sound of a pencil scratching broke the silence. Sans looked up, only to find Red bent over the opened newspaper. He had his head resting on one huge hand, tapping the pencil against his gold fang as he stared down at the paper.

After a bit, he finally noticed Sans staring and looked up. “Hm?”

“Nothing.” Sans turned to watch Doomfanger, who had shifted to lie in a ray of sunlight. Her side was moving up and down, but Sans couldn’t tell if she was asleep or not. Red continued working on the crossword in the background, the pencil scratches and occasional sighs punctuating Sans’ silent staring.

“You any good at these things? I’m halfway decent, but some of these clues are fucking impossible.” Red turned around the paper, tapping the pencil against the side of the page. Sans could see that some of the lines of the crossword were worn, and Red had definitely erased and started over on a few of these. “Like, what the fuck is a member of the trochilidae family?”

“Hummingbird.”

Red looked down, his face scrunching up as the pencil scratched against the paper. Sans tried not to chuckle as his face lit up in surprise. “It fits.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Red’s chair scraped against the kitchen tiles as he scooted over, making Doomfanger hiss. “Mind giving me a hand with this one? It’s a fuckin’ bitch, but if I ask Boss for help he’s gonna laugh at me.”

Sans was a bit surprised that Red was so willing to admit he was having trouble, but he wasn’t going to say no. He’d finished his food anyways. “Sure.”

He scooted his chair around the side of the table, and Red moved a bit closer. He folded the paper and set the crossword down between them, propped up so they could both see.

“Here, this is the one I’m having trouble with. 3 down.” Red tapped the hint with the tip of the pencil, reading it out loud as if to make sure Sans got it. “The largest phylum in the animal kingdom.”

Sans looked over the boxes, mentally counting the spaces to make sure the word fit before speaking. “That’s ‘arthropoda’. It includes insects and some sea creatures like crabs.”

“Yer a walking dictionary, aren’t you?” Red said, a smile quirking up the corner of his mouth as he wrote it in.

“Ah, I know a few things.” Sans shifted a bit, chuckling nervously. Red didn’t know he was a researcher, and Sans didn’t usually talk about this stuff outside of work, since it just went over most monster’s heads.

“Well, let me know if you figure out any other clues, smartie.” Red turned back to look at the newspaper, leaving Sans to his own devices. He was still holding the pencil, and he would presumably put down any other words Sans came up with.

Sans tried to focus on the crossword, but he couldn’t help getting distracted. Red had moved so he was resting one elbow on the back of Sans’ chair to support his head, and it was almost like his arm was around Sans. Red and Boss weren’t particularly touchy-feely with each other, but it seemed like Red had no problem with getting close to him.

Red’s bones were thick and scarred, and they looked much stronger than Sans’ delicate frame. His breaths were slow, letting Sans follow the subtle patterns of shifting light that showed the magic circulating around his frame. Red’s pulse seemed much more active than his own, but that was probably a side effect of his job. After all, he never knew when he would have to fight.

Sans couldn’t help eyeing Red’s ribs in particular. His ribcage was much wider than Sans’s, looking more 'cage' than 'rib'. There was a rough line down the left side, deeper than all the other cuts. Sans could see lumps where the bone must have been fused back together, and he was impressed that Red didn’t seem bothered by it at all. He wondered if the scar would feel rough to the touch, and exactly what kind of sound it would make as his phalanges brushed over it. The wife beater didn’t hide much, and if Sans wanted to, he could probably tilt his head a bit and catch a peek of Red’s soul through them—

Sans turned his head away, disgusted by his own thoughts. Stars, what did he think he was doing, eyeing Red up like that? He had to get a grip. All of this was wrong. Sans shouldn’t be here, getting all cozy in this stranger’s kitchen. He’d almost been kidnapped a few days ago by someone like this, for fuck’s sake! He still wasn't sure if he could trust Red and Boss to actually let him go, or if they would try to ransom him. For all he knew, they could have Papyrus locked up in a warehouse somewhere too. He needed to figure out what was really going on here, and make sure he wasn’t being duped.

“Why the hell are you doing this?” The words came out harsher than Sans intended, but his shoulders raised when Red shifted to look at him. Red was so close that Sans could feel his movements, even if they weren’t directly touching.

“Whaddaya mean?” Red sounded genuinely confused, but that just pissed Sans off even more.

“Rescuing me. Taking me home. Letting me sit at your kitchen table and do a crossword like we fucking know each other.” Sans could feel himself getting more irritated as he spoke. “This isn’t normal at all, but you’re being so casual about it. Why the hell do you even give a shit about me in the first place?

Red blew out a heavy breath, sitting back in his chair. “Shit. I knew I was gonna fuck this up somehow.” His fingertips were sparking with magic, but he clenched his hand into a fist as if to make the sparks go away.

“I... I didn' mean anything by it.” Red set the paper down on the table, and got up from his chair. Sans flinched a bit as he stood up, but Red quickly took a step back and raised his hands. He still seemed tense, but he wasn’t actively being hostile towards Sans. His accent thickened as he spoke, the words running together a bit. “Ya’ve been through enough, I figured maybe actin’ casual would help you settle down a bit. I didn’ mean ta make ya freak. I’ll jes’ stay outta yer way. Ya’ll be outta here soon enough.”

He walked backwards, skirting around Doomfanger as he headed for the door. Sans felt a pang in his chest as he watched Red go. Red’s face was blanker than Sans had ever seen it, but Sans knew the sight of a skeleton masking pain. It was like looking in a mirror, and he could feel his sins crawling on his back. He couldn’t just let Red leave like this; it wasn't right.

“No.” Sans stood up too, fidgeting with the edge of his tanktop. “You don’t have to leave, I just—I’m sorry. You and your brother are doing so much for me. I’ve got no right to be ungrateful.

“You ain’t ungrateful.” Red had so much conviction in his voice that Sans’ words died in his throat before he could argue back. “Just cause you ain’t out there like we are doesn't mean there’s no stress on you. You ain’t even a foot soldier, of course you’d be gettin’ cabin fever being all cooped up in here.”

“That’s still no excuse to lash out at you,” Sans said, feeling a fresh wave of anger towards himself. Stars, he could be so stupid sometimes.

“Eh, it’s no skin off my nose.” Red winked, the bones of his eyelid clacking as he did it.

Sans couldn’t help chuckling at the pun, and Red’s eyes lit up. He perked up like a puppy, shifting a bit in the doorframe. He shoved his hands into his pockets, a broad grin spreading across his face.

“Ya like puns? I got a skele- _ton_ of them.”

“Come on, that’s such low-hanging fruit. You could at least bust out the _humerus_ ones.” Sans punned back, resting his hands on the table.

“Oh, I got good ones. By the time I’m done with ya, we’re both gonna be having an _osteoblast_ ,” Red said, laying a heavy emphasis on the last word.

Sans’ eyes widened, and he snorted. “ _Tibia_ honest, I’ve never heard that one before. I might steal it.”

“I’ll have a _bone_ ta pick with you if ya start stealing my jokes.” Red crossed his arms, but the broad grin on his face showed that he wasn’t actually angry.

“I think I could take you, but it’d be a _marrow_ escape for me.” Sans hadn’t felt this kind of glee in days, but he tried to keep himself from laughing too much. He didn’t want to ruin the delivery of the pun, after all.

“You’re already _cracking_ up. You really don’t have the _stomach_ for these ones.” Red was laying it on thick, and Sans was happy to match his energy.

“Yeah, I’ve got no guts at all. You could say your puns just go right through me.” Sans said, lightly knocking against his skull.

“C’mon, if any one of us is the numbskull here it’s gotta be me.” Red gestured to himself.

Sans wasn’t quite sure where to go from there, so he figured a change of joke would be best. “What’s a skeleton’s favourite kind of tree?” Sans waited, and when Red tilted his head, he grinned even wider. This one always annoyed the hell out of Papyrus, since he actually kept a little garden. “A _bone_ -zai.”

Red snickered a few times, but quickly pulled himself together. “How do skeletons get their mail delivered?” He barely paused at all, barrelling right through the joke. “The _boney_ express.”

Sans broke. He hung his head down, laughing uncontrollably. He felt a bit embarrassed by how he snorted, but he couldn’t help it. Dang, the mafioso had some zingers. Red was laughing a bit too, but not nearly as much as Sans. It felt like all of the tensions from the past few days were draining out of him, and by the time his laughing fit was finished, Sans was actually feeling a bit tired.

“I needed that.” Sans sat back, smiling at Red. He patted the chair next to him, looking expectantly at Red. “Here, come sit. Finishing this crossword by myself sounds boring as hell.”

“Alright.” Was that a light flush on Red’s cheekbones, or was Sans just imagining it? “Gotta keep you entertained. Who knows what kinda mischief you’ll get into if I leave you alone.”

“Exactly.” Sans drawled the world out, picking up the pencil and twirling it over his fingers. “Let’s see how _sharp_ your puzzle skills are.”

This time Red sat down a bit further away from Sans, but he didn’t really mind. He’d been having trouble getting a read on Red, and it was a relief to finally understand him better. Even if he looked intimidating, Sans wasn’t going to turn away his kindness. They might not be friends forever, but having fun with Red would definitely help make time pass quicker. He just had to stop overthinking things, and go with the flow. At the very least, Sans would always appreciate a pun partner.


End file.
